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miracle-sham · 1 year

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Whence The Dragons Arise from the Darkness Inside.

| {MGI Civil War 3 Event} |

| {Dragons, Royal} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |

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| There was something wrong in the Kingdom, dragons razing villages to the ground and many people disappearing. Captured and dragged before the King, the rebel Ladybug must find out the truth before it becomes too late for her as well. |

| Word Count: 3809. |

| Warnings/Tags: Fantasy/Royal/Dragons AU, No Miraculous, Hurt/Traitor Adrien (he's not bad it's just complicated), Hurt Marinette, Hair Pulling, Chains, Blood and Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, Rebellion, Dungeons, Burns, Betrayal, Animal Transformation, Dragon!Mari, Dehumanisation and Abuse Towards a Character Transformed Into an Animal, Angst and Feels, Swearing, Rescue Mission, Ambiguous/Open Ending. |

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| A/N: If you couldn't tell yet, I'm a sucker for Dragon AUs so when I saw the prompt I just couldn't not write something for it! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. |

———

The stained glass mosaic floor of King Gabriel Agreste the Scarlet Moth's throne room was cold and dug into the bare skin of Ladybug's shins and knees exposed by her torn and burnt leather armour as she kneeled before him. The manacles were even colder still, cutting into her wrists and ankles so tightly that she couldn't feel her fingertips or toes anymore. Though both the manacles and mosaic were slowly warming as blood trickled from her numerous wounds and began to pool, staining her red armour black in patches.

She kept her gaze to the ground, head bowed, hair loose, veiling her face from the King's view. Breathing as even as possible but with every rise of her chest, a hitch in her breath. Her heart pounded like the ringing of a death knell. Is this the end? Was all she could think.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” The Royal Advisor Sancoeur announced, in her disgustingly opulent dress of dragon scales, peacock feathers, silk, and sapphires. The people were starving, were dying in the streets, and she could afford to wear something where half the materials were saturated in the blood of the poor who harvested them.

Ladybug didn't react. She refused to acknowledge her old name, let alone be known by it. Marinette had died years ago, along with her parents and their home when it was razed to the ground by dragon's breath. Ladybug had survived a dragon attack, numerous in fact. Marinette had not.

“You stand before—”

Snorting loudly, her shoulders shook and the manacle chains rattled.

The King stood, enraged by her audacity, fury practically crackling from him like lightning. “You dare—”

“You call this standing?” She rasped, gesturing with jangling manacled hands towards herself, on her knees, bloodied and beaten.

Footsteps approached from behind, slow and heavy, followed by the clank of a metal gauntlet being adjusted, was all the warning she got. In a split second, that metal gauntlet seized the back of her head. Claw-tipped fingers nicking her scalp and drawing beads of blood. Tangling in her ash-stained hair.

Ladybug grimaced but refused to make a noise of pain. Refused to let her pain entertain and quell the King's wrath.

The grip tightened. Her breathing stuttered. Barely stifling a whimper from the back of her throat. The gauntlet wrenched her head upwards to face the King. Like she was just a puppet on strings. It burned.

Tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes as her vision blurred.

Royal Advisor Sancoeur cleared her throat. “You kneel—”

—Ladybug snarled up at them silently, blinking back the tears until her vision cleared and all that remained was the fury burning in her eyes. Sancoeur made it sound as if she were willingly kneeling before the King to offer her allegiance.—

The King stared down at her, eyes dark, with a smirk uncurling upon his lips, as he slowly sat back down upon his white crystal marble and dark purple velvet throne.

“—before the Royal Court, for the crimes of:” Royal Advisor Sancoeur took a breath, quickly unravelling a very long scroll, and began reading. “High treason, attempted regicide against the King, and Crown Prince on multiple accounts; abduction, attempted torture and indoctrination of the Crown Prince; misprision of treason, defection, sedition; abduction, torture, indoctrination, and endangerment via dragons of hundreds of Parisian children and young adults; espionage, brigandage, witchcraft on multiple accounts, murder on multiple accounts, and lastly, contempt of court.”

Ladybug remained silent, not even bothering to listen to crimes attributed to her, for her gaze wandered over to the smaller white marble throne, lined with the palest blue velvet, in the shadow of the King's throne. Where the Cat's Paw of a Renegade Prince was seated primly.

He did not meet her eyes.

She didn't expect him to. But the shock of seeing Adrien—dressed in white silks, diamonds, and pale blue finery with that blank look in his eyes—made her lips curl up bitterly.

A sharp tug on her hair dragged her attention back to the King and his Advisor.

“Due to the nature of your crimes,” Royal Advisor Sancoeur continued, “you shall undergo trial by fire for each crime. If every burn heals once three days have passed, then you shall be proclaimed innocent of all crimes and released from Royal Custody.” She paused to allow the attending council to murmur amongst themselves.

Ladybug didn't need to look away from the King to know that they were undoubtedly sneering down at her and mocking the very thought of her being innocent of the crimes.

Royal Advisor Sancoeur cleared her throat to quieten the Court. “Should even a single burn fester, then you shall be proclaimed guilty of all crimes and be sentenced to burning alive unless you repent and seek to atone for your crimes, in which case you shall instead be sent to the oubliette for the rest of your days.”

Three days. Three days. That's how long she had, to find out what had happened to all of the disappearances attributed to her and the rebellion, and then to either escape on her own, or hope that Cass or the rest of the Rebellion would come rescue her. Or else she'd die painfully either way. No one ever returned from the oubliette, a fate worse than death some would even consider.

The King rhythmically tapped his fingers against the arm of the throne, still smirking down at her. “Send the traitor to the Ember Dungeons so that the trial by fire may begin as soon as possible. And ensure that she is given three full meals and clean drinking water, every day whilst we await the results.”

The gauntlet wrenched her up onto her feet by the hair once more. Ladybug winced, unable to keep the grimace off her face from the pain.

Finally releasing its hold on her, she twisted around to see who it was. A knight in dark grey and blue striped armour.

Her heart sank. Eyes wide. Mouth agape. The gauntlet that had grabbed her—hurt her—belonged to none other than the new Captain of the Royal Guard (the previous was among the missing). Their spy, a fellow rebel, Dick Grayson. That… that hadn't been necessary, he could've just—

She didn't know. He was supposed to be on their side but… Then why—why go so far?

Swallowing thickly she turned away, hands shaking.

Cass was going to be devastated if she found out what her brother had just done. What if she knew already—no, no, she would never stand for that, never would let that happen… but…?

He shoved her between the shoulder blades. “Get moving.”

Stumbling, she tripped over the manacles around her ankles. The only thing keeping her from falling over was Dick wrenching at the back neckline of her armour. She gasped helplessly, as her own armour choked her for a moment.

“Move.” Dick ordered again, tone clipped and emotionless, letting go of her just to shove her again.

Gaze flickering frantically around the throne room, she licked her lips, mouth going dry. “W-where…?”

He scoffed, grabbing at the manacle chain around her wrists and dragging her across the room towards an unassuming door.

Before she was removed from the room, two voices caught her ear.

“The King's kindness is wasted on a wretched girl like that.” The first sneered.

“Indeed. She's guilty without question, it's plain to see, those meals would be better given to those who actually deserve to be fed.” The second agreed.

It took all her willpower not to turn towards them and spit curses at them. Not that the curses would actually do anything, but still, she couldn't help the slight curl of vindictiveness in her heart at their unashamed cruelty.

Across hallway after hallway, through doorway through doorway, down stairs upon stairs, finally they reached a door blackened and warped by extensive scorch marks, and a wrought iron dragon-shaped knocker, deep beneath the Palace. It was like a maze, but Ladybug couldn't help the sneaking suspicion that Dick had dragged her around randomly to exhaust and mislead her so escape would be even more difficult.

Dick didn't even glance at her despite the fact they were alone. He grabbed her by the nearest shoulder to him and kept her between him and the stairs back up to the palace. Grasping the knocker, he loudly rapped it against the door.

With a decrepit groan, the heavy wooden door squealed on its hinges as it was prised open from the other side.

A low dark stone tunnel lurked beyond, flanked by torch sconces on either side of the walls, and two dark purple armoured knights.

Dick nodded to the two and began pushing Ladybug forwards, following behind her every step.

She grit her teeth and kept her breathing slow and even, not uttering a single complaint as she stepped into the foreboding gloom.

The knights watched her silently, turning their heads as she drew closer to them.

But the second Dick stepped across the threshold, the knights raised their spears to his neck. Slipping into a defensive position that separated Ladybug from the exit, and Dick from her.

“Halt. Remove your hand from the prisoner and return to your post.” The knight to the right ordered.

Slowly, Dick raised his hand off of her shoulders and into the air. “I was instructed to bring the traitor to the Ember Dungeons for trial by fire.”

The left knight nodded to him. “You have accomplished your order then. Now leave.”

Dick did not move.

The right knight grunted. “It seems you do not understand. This prisoner,” gesturing towards Ladybug, “is now under our jurisdiction. None may pass beyond this threshold barring prisoners and those in the Akuma Guard.”

“As you are neither,” the left knight continued, “you are to leave and return to your post or the King shall be alerted and your ranks stripped.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “I am Captain of the Royal Guard.”

“Your captaincy holds no power nor sway down here.” The right knight sneered.

The Captain cast a disdainful glance towards Ladybug before stalking off, back into the palace without another word.

Leaving her alone, with two Akuma Guard knights—a rank of knights she had never heard of before—and their spears blocking her only exit.

Lowering the spear, the right knight slipped past her so that there was a knight on either side of her, and plucked one of the torches from the nearest sconce.

“This way.” The knight grunted, metal sabatons clattering against the stone with every step.

She didn't move, not at first. The right knight didn't turn around to check she was following.

A sharp jab to the back forced her forwards. Letting out a hiss between her teeth.

The left knight, the one still behind her, jabbed the tip of the spear into her armour, not quite piercing through it but applying enough force it still hurt. “Follow.”

Closing her eyes for a moment, she breathed in deeply and then complied with the order. What choice did she have?

Slowly, she began to walk after the right knight, keeping within the feeble light cast by the torch he carried; wary of the left knight close behind her.

If the palace itself had been a maze, then the Ember dungeons were a labyrinth.

It felt as though it took centuries to traverse the twisting and winding corridors of the Dungeon, splitting off into seemingly endless shadowed stone passageways and bolted iron doors. Eventually, the knights stopped in front of an iron door warped and rusted, clearly damaged by fire.

The right knight stepped forwards, keys jangling as the heavy bolt was unlocked. A wretched squeal of the hinges anteceded the door swinging open into a dark cell. Just barely visible within the room, from the torch held outside, was a stone altar with black iron hoops and chains attached to it.

Ladybug froze up.

Snorting, the left knight shoved her into the room unceremoniously. And when she still didn't move willingly, he dragged her over to the altar and hooked the chains to the manacles around her wrists and ankles.

The chains were long enough to give her some space to move but not enough to let her reach even halfway to the door. Escaping, or getting rescued was going to be harder than expected.

She swallowed thickly, watching the knights in trepidation, barely resisting the urge to check the chains' limits right in front of them.

“We suggest you get some rest.” The right knight stated.

The left knight walked back to rejoin the other. “We shall return once preparations for your trial by fire have been sorted.”

The heavy door slammed shut, faintly rattling the chains all the way on the altar from the force.

“Do not try to escape.” One knight ordered.

“It shall not end well for you.” The other finished.

Ladybug listened to the rustling of the bolt and keys being locked, and then the sounds of the knights' sabatons marching off and away.

Leaving her cold, and alone, in the pitch-black dungeon cell.

She sighed, and tried to wriggle her wrists to test the chains and manacles but both were strongly made, she wouldn't be getting out of them anytime soon without something to break them.

———

Ladybug bolted awake at the sound of keys rattling in the cell's door. She cursed under her breath, how could she have fallen asleep?

The horrific squeal of the door opening pierced the air. Wincing, she squinted up at the doorway as torchlight flooded the gloomy room.

Her heart plummeted as the sight of the King greeted her.

Smirking down at her, the King stepped into the room, sceptre in hand. The two knights from earlier, flanking just behind him, one lugging a satchel in.

The King put his hand out, and the knight dutifully pulled a piece of blood-red chalk from within and handed it over to the King.

He brought the chalk up to his eye, the reds shifting in the dancing light of the flame. “Please try not to disturb the chalk once it has been laid out, otherwise we'll have to make it so you can't interfere, understood?”

Ladybug nodded slowly, watching their every move with bated breath.

The King rolled his eyes and curled his lip in contempt. “Good enough for now I suppose.”

With a surprising grace considering how heavy the King's armour and cloak must've been, with the thick fur and excessive jewellery adorning him too, he began to draw strange symbols and lines in the blood-red chalk. He circled around her, connected the lines and adding more symbols until a multilayered ritual circle was fully formed centred around the altar—around her.

She didn't dare move, if they were using magic to burn her for each crime instead then damaging the circle in any way could have devastating or even fatal results.

The King then set out black candles at various points in the circle, and lit each one carefully.

Ladybug swallowed thickly, gaze straying to the numerous flickering flames now surrounding her.

Stepping back, the King bared his teeth at her in the mockery of a smile. “Now, let us begin your trial.”

He swept his arm in a wide gesture, so that the sceptre pointed towards her.

One moment there was scarlet energy crackled around the tip of the sceptre.

The next, there was muffled screaming.

It took far too long for Ladybug to realise it was her screaming, as she arched her back and thrashed against the chains. Tears streaming down her face as she gasped for breath between searing screams. Agony etched itself into her very bones with each passing second as the crackling grew louder and louder and louder and the room glowed brighter and brighter red.

She struggled to swallow her still-beating heart as the darkness crept in at the edges of her sight.

The King's maniacal cackles were the last thing she heard, as the pain claimed her consciousness.

———

The second his shift had ended, Dick had cursed with every swear and minced oath he knew under his breath, and immediately set out for the city below. He needed to meet with Cass and the rest of their rebellion squad immediately. Dressed in simple non-identifying clothes and a black cloak, he dashed across rooftops until he reached the abandoned inn.

Slipping in through a broken first-floor window, he darted through the clean but unoccupied room, and slid down the bannister to the bar room below.

Cass and the others were already waiting for him.

Felix was behind the bar, pouring a drink for himself and Allegra, whilst Mireille, Claude, and Allen were sat around a table in the middle of the room exchanging notes of some kind.

Legs dangling from her perch in the rafters, Cass stared down at her older brother. “Where.” She croaked, red eyes and dried tear streaks barely visible in the low light.

“Ember Dungeons.” Dick responded immediately, glancing towards the others, as he scanned the room quickly.

“Fuck.” Felix hissed, nearly dropping the glasses.

“Yeah,” Dick responded, swallowing thickly. “She's been sentenced to trial by fire, for every crime committed by the rebellion.”

“You're joking!” Claude gasped, “that's not—”

“It's the King. You think it matters what it's not.” Felix snarled.

Mireille stood up. “How long? Until the trial?”

Sighing, Dick raked a hand through his hair, dishevelling it. “The trial's already begun. We have three days to get Ladybug out and find out what we can about the disappearances.”

“Shit.” Allegra grimaced, closing her eyes. “This is gonna be hell to pull off.”

“We will save her.” Cass asserted, swinging down from the rafters. “We're not leaving her.”

“It's not a matter of leaving,” Dick answered. “If we don't save her before the three days are up, then depending on whether she's proclaimed innocent or guilty by the trial; then she'll be sentenced to the oubliette for the rest of her life, or publicly burnt alive.”

The second he finished speaking, the others all burst into yells.

Dick breathed in shakily, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to face them and waiting until the others grew quiet again. “Even worse.”

“Oh no.” Mireille muttered, wringing her hands.

“Ladybug recognised me whilst I was undercover, and reacted in obvious shock.” Dick licked his lips for a moment before continuing. “I had to keep pretences up because the palace is crawling with the King's observation magic, and I couldn't afford my cover to be blown before we got her out, so she probably thinks I'm a traitor, like the fucking Prince.”

Claude slumped onto the tabletop, head thunking against the wood. “This is a mess.”

“You can say that again.” Felix snorted.

Shaking his head, Dick walked over to the table and unravelled a large map of every room on every level of the palace. He waited until Cass, Felix, and Allegra joined them at the table.

“This,” he said, pointing at a small innocuous room, labelled cellar staircase, “is the entrance to the Ember Dungeons. After those stairs is a long corridor which ends in a burnt wooden door with a wrought iron dragon-shaped knocker. The Dungeons are beyond that door.”

Allan frowned, furrowing his brows and pursing his lips. “But there's no evidence of any underground dungeons below.”

Shaking his head, Dick sighed again. “The location is a heavily kept secret, I was only informed of it upon becoming the Captain of the Royal Guard, and even then I was refused access into the dungeons themselves.”

“So let's get this right?” Allegra huffed. “We've got three days to work out how to break into the palace,—”

—Dick nodded.—

“—something not a single member of the rebellion has successfully achieved yet,—”

—“Yep,” Claude piped up.—

“—enter some dungeons in which we have no map and no knowledge of except that they exist,—”

—“Uh-huh.” Felix chimed in drily.—

“—And save Ladybug before she's executed or they make her disappear as well because I think we can all agree that they're clearly using the oubliette as an excuse for some of the disappearances.” Allegra finished.

“Sounds about right.” Dick muttered darkly.

Cass slammed her hand down on the map. “We will succeed. The King will pay.”

Allegra sighed. “Well then, let's get your girlfriend back then.”

And with a long night ahead of them, they began to plot.

———

“How disappointing.” The King mused, lowering the sceptre to stare down at the tiny little pink-scaled and purple-spined dragon with red and black elytron wings, wreathed in dwarfing chains and curled up on the centre of the altar.

The Flapling made a pathetic plaintive whine and twitched feebly, clearly still disoriented and in pain from the magic bleeding from the Sceptre.

“And here I thought, that one of the most notorious and troublesome rebellion leaders, would have a more impressive draconic form.” He sighed, stepping towards the ex-rebel. “Such a pitiful nuisance, foiling my plans to the very end, aren't you.”

Poking it with the tip of the still glowing sceptre, elicited a miserable cry, writhing and wailing as it tried to flail away from his torment.

The King scoffed, eyeing her quivering form. “You'll be of no use in the raids against the rebellion, but with the right training, perhaps you'll still be of some use. If the Rebellion ever learn of what my dragons really are, do you think they'd hesitate from killing you? Perhaps even try to save you still?” He burst into laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

Turning to the guards, he gestured towards the dragon that had once been Ladybug. “Sedate it, clip its wings—the elytra shell, not the hindwings themself, need I remind you—and claws, muzzle it, then bring it to the Royal Tower Mews.”

“Of course, Sire!” Both knights answered in unison, one removing the sedative, and dragon clippers from the satchel; whilst the other marched off to retrieve a fitting muzzle.

The King chuckled lowly, watching as the sedative was applied. “I do wonder what your allies will think of you once they find out from henceforth you'll be on my side? Will they believe you've betrayed them, like my son betrayed you? Or will they think I'm merely trying to get under their skin and kill you under the assumption you're nothing more than a mindless monster?”

The Flapling made no response, already stilling under the effects of the sedative.

His grin widened as the remaining knight began to snip the protective shell casing. King Gabriel drew closer, plucking a clipped shard up from the ground in his free hand and hummed, inspecting the red and black colouration, a cruel idea forming in his mind.

The rebellion wouldn't know what would hit them.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this Oneshot fic! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are all much appreciated! And make sure to support the rest of my team's fics if you enjoyed this! |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I’ll be more than happy to answer! |

| However, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

| @maribat-get-in |

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